The Quiet Side of Room
by WhoJackman
Summary: AU FNL - Tim's a NFL superstar and Julie's a lowly journalist looking for a break. Having never met, these two could help each other out...or bugger up everything.
1. Chapter 1

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 1**

Staring across the locker room, Tim Riggins rested his elbows on his knees and gazed at his celebrating teammates. They had just won the biggest game of their lives – The Superbowl. He was happy, his hard work had paid off and the many years of backbreaking, sweat infested practises had seen him gain the ultimate football prize. His teammates were yelling and hollering jumping on one another in absolute joy and he questioned what was wrong with him. Why wasn't he happy? Sure it had been a few hours since the game and some of the cheer had rubbed off slightly but really, why was he being such a freaking dud?

_**oooooo**_

_Denver Broncos fullback Tim Riggins was named Super Bowl MVP. He finished the game with 2 Super Bowl records: the most rushing yards in a Super Bowl game (205), and the most rushing attempts (36). His performance was also his fourth 100 yard rushing game in a row in a postseason game, a postseason record. Riggins also recorded a reception for 15 yards, giving him more total yards than the entire Miami team._

Julie Taylor stopped typing as she ran out of steam. She was doing the hard yards in a small, free and ultimately crappy newspaper printed and distributed in Dallas. She was writing about Tim Riggins, who she should know but didn't and getting nowhere fast. Her father had coached him during Riggins high school football career while he had been in Dillon. Having won a scholarship to The Brooks Hill School freshman year, she had spent the majority of her time at school, visiting friends with some time in the pokey little hamlet of Dillon. She hadn't mixed with the kids there having moved into the dusty hellhole scant weeks before leaving for her first year of boarding school.

She lifeguarded at the local pool during the summer and she had a few acquaintances, but preferred to read or msn with her boarding school friends, than mix with the locals. As a teen she had been hit on...repeatedly but she had never taken the bait. The red swimsuit was some sort of mating call to the opposite sex but the small time lads with their greasy hair, tight jeans and easy grins hadn't really appealed to her. She wanted more. And so stories about the 'thinks she's so special' coach's daughter spread and the tag of _Priss_ stuck. She knew about it of course but there was no way they would find out that it hurt, that she did have feelings and that they had been injured. Being shy could be tough and she would rather read than discuss the new tread on a guy's truck tyres.

Her dad had been the big name, the coach of the mighty Dillon Panthers, five time State champions. He had been more than a coach to those boys, a replacement dad of sorts for most. In fact he had been more of a father to his team than her on most occasions. She had experienced pangs of jealousy - that his team spent more time with him, that they knew him better than she - but she was proud of his achievements. He loved her, he was proud of her but school had cost them a considerable amount of father-daughter time. The arrival of Gracie had worsened things, she was no longer the only child. Now there was a new one, a new daughter, a daughter that was at home. Jealousy had then become more of a stabbing sensation than a pang.

Now she was a proud graduate of George Washington University, journalism diploma in hand she had sought positions and while she possessed the talent and an impressive work ethic it hadn't meant much without 

connections. Wanting to be near her family she had found a position on a tiny paper with a small readership under the thumb of a tyrannical blonde boss, Marilyn, who made Tyra Collette look like a meek lamb. So here she was three years later still slogging it out and getting nowhere fast. She was near her parents who now resided in Dallas, her father coaching at University of Texas. She was beginning to develop a relationship with them again, she was showing she could be a daughter and a good one at that. Her sister was eight and a holy terror. Her father would have to have his shotgun ready and waiting at the door. Gracie was high octane precociousness with her mother's looks. She had the green eyes too, not the changeable hazel ones she and her father shared. She was part of her family again and it was nice. But she was bored and she couldn't shake off the feeling that life would continue to meander on that way. She needed a story, 

something to gain the attention of some more impressive publications, to move up in the journalism world.

Julie had witnessed the Denver Broncos win the Superbowl. Her father had attended having received tickets from Riggins. He was so proud of him, sitting alongside Jason Street in the stands her father had apparently cheered louder than anyone there and had beamed with paternal pride when Riggins had been announced MVP. Riggins had even mentioned Coach Taylor and Street in his speech and her father had glowed for three days. Her father had admitted to her once that Riggins was the one who had reminded him the most of himself as a teen. That had surprised her. Her father equated himself with a drunk and womanising boy with greasy hair. Well she could imagine the similarities with the hair but she had never been able to connect her father and Riggins in the manner that Eric had. Her father had been as tough as nails on him and Riggins seemed to respond. Julie guessed the big movement in that relationship was when Riggins had moved in temporarily into her house. She hadn't been there but she had heard about it...at length. How wonderful Tim was at fixing things, the natural way he had with Gracie, how ping pong games went well into the night. It had pissed her off, a strange boy was enjoying time with her family when she couldn't. It wasn't right.

Over the years, through college and into the NFL, her dad had kept in close contact with Tim Riggins. Tim had straightened his life out enough that he could do all the things that her dad had wanted for him. Hell, her father had even attended his graduation from college. And yet she had never met Tim Riggins, she had heard about him at length, seen him from a distance but never had the planets aligned and Julie Taylor spoken to the famous Rigs. He was basically a part of her family and yet her distance had kept them from being at the same place at the same time. If she hadn't known better she would say they had a Clark Kent/Superman deal going on. She was curious though, not about the football, but what there was about this guy that had endeared him so much to father?

Staring at the screen, seeing her pathetic effort of a run down of Tim Riggins' efforts she groaned in frustration. She should be trying to interview him, not rehashing information that everyone knew already. It had been inevitable that Julie would be interested in sports journalism, her father was a coach after all. After fighting the appeal of football for most of her young life she had realised that sports were her interest and that she wanted to write about them. Right now she would write about anything needed for the paper but her dream would be to break the big sports stories, having her own column, have sport stars seek her out to interview them. It wasn't going to happen at this rinky dink, poor excuse of a newspaper. She needed the big story. She needed Tim Riggins. She needed the man who didn't give interviews. She needed the biggest story and by hell or high water she was going to get it.

**Author's Note** – I have taken a break and sorely missed writing. However my idea well dried up and Jodes suggested something along the lines of this and as I haven't really done much of a time jump in any of my stories I thought this may be a challenge. If anyone wants to give me any other ideas for the future I would gladly receive them. I hope you are interested in an AU future Riggins and Jules.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 2**

Julie thought briefly about how she was going to approach Tim Riggins for an interview. A thought about asking via her father flitted through her brain but she pushed that away, she was better than that. She didn't want to be exploitative, she wanted truth and grit.

He would know who she was, he had spent weeks in her house seeing the plethora of childhood photos plastering the walls and gathering dust on every other available surface. She had seen him once at the pool. There entire interaction could be summarised by watching him float by in an air inflatable raft with some bikini clad morons. He had caught her eye and winked and she had just turned her head to inspect another corner of the pool. She may have blushed at his wink but then again she had been fifteen and her entire experience with boys could be abbreviated to one clumsy kiss at a school dance.

She wasn't going to be as shy this time around but there was still that nervous, stammering teen in there still. Julie needed to find a way to talk to him without using her father as a source. She needed to establish herself as an independent and capable journalist. But then again she needed to know where she could find him, somewhere where groupies, hangers on and other rabble wouldn't be circulating him. She needed five minutes of one on one time and she was positive she could convince him to sit down for an interview. She was a persuasive girl, off spring of the best swaying talker she knew – Tami Taylor.

Julie had never been all that interested in stories about Rigs but now she found herself in an interesting position of seeking Tim-information. Who on earth would know where he would hang out? If he was liquored up, as he had been most of his teen years, convincing him to talk to her might be easier than she anticipated. She couldn't imagine him at one of those hoity, clinical looking bars – it wasn't his style. Where did he live again? Blast. She rifled through the bits and pieces her father had mentioned over the years. He was on millions a year, he'd be living somewhere pretentious and showy for sure. She sighed. She had no contacts in Dillon and her only source was her father.

**ooooo**

Julie got ready for dinner with her parents and made the short drive to her parents. They have fortuitously invited her over to see the tape of Gracie's school play that she had not been able to attend. It was going to be a night of her father's self-professed awesome chilli, her mother's cornbread and kids singing show tunes. It would be fun and she'd be able to do some Tim orientated reconnaissance. She dressed nicely making sure that there was an absence of décolletage as her father might have a coronary if too much way on display. This was despite the fact that genetics had been kind and she had her mom's rack and he didn't seem to have a problem with her mom walking around proud of her ta ta's. Oh well.

Standing at the front door of her family's home, that had never been hers, was always weird. Ringing the doorbell was a disturbing sensation and she felt that widening chasm between herself and her family. They had given her a key and welcomed her whole heartedly but it wasn't where she grew up and as such it didn't contain the memories or the attachments to make her feel truly comfortable. She waited for someone to come to the door, not feeling okay with just opening the door herself. She heard the rapid pitter patter of kid sized feet running for the door get louder until the door was yanked open and a pocket rocket threw herself 

into Julie's body. She encompassed the small blonde within her arms and smelt that awesome bubblegum scent of her hair.

"How are you going G?" she asked as they drew away from one another. Sure Gracie had supplanted her within the family to a degree but there wasn't a person on the earth she loved more.

"Great, awesome, fantastic. I was the star of the show. I definitely got the loudest applause." Gracie looked at her with her green eyed glittering obviously drunk on stardom.

"I am sure you totally rocked the house. I am so excited to see you strut your stuff," Julie told her and she was. Missing the school show had been tough but she'd had to go and interview some mother of sextuplets for the paper. Non negotiable, as Marilyn had stated when she had tried for a reschedule. How much could she really say about copious diaper washing and a bunch of screaming babies? Human interest story and all that jazz, whatever. She worked for a 'family friendly paper' that prevented her from seeing her own sister's performance. The hypocrisy was astonishing.

Hand in hand the two sisters walked into the living area where her mom rushed forward and hugged her fiercely. Over Tami's shoulder she shot a smile at her father and received a crooked smile and a wink in response. He was too involved in the chilli-making process to actually hug her.

"How's it cooking Dad?" she asked loitering around the stove, smelling the awesomeness that was her dad's specialty.

"On track and ready to blow your mind. How's my girl?" He swung an arm around her shoulders drawing her against him while stirring with his other hand.

"Good. Writing stories that bore me and the readers senseless but good." She smiled up at him while he looked at her in concern.

"Sometimes something or someone can happen and change things up missy," he attempted to console her. The doorbell rang and his face brightened considerably.

"Who's that?" she asked. However it was obviously expected. She looked at her father expectantly.

"I was talking to him today and invited him last minute. He said he'd try and drop by," her father slapped the wooden spoon in her hand and strode off for the front door. Her mother and sister following him. She continued to stir fragrant smelling meal and kept her eyes on the hallway.

Suddenly there was Tim Riggins walking towards her, a bunch of flowers and a bottle of red wine in his hands as her father slapped him approvingly on his back. He had a bemused smirk on his face and was attempting to walk without tripping over Gracie who was hanging onto his left leg.

"Tim's here honey," Eric announced with considerable twang. At that moment Tim Riggins gaze swung to her and stayed there, examining her with spoon in hand.

"Yeah I see that Dad," she snarked. "Hey," she said establishing eye contact. She felt it immediately. She couldn't quantify it. A sensation of awareness moved through her, the hair on her arms standing at attention. She was determined to appear immovable and unimpressed by his presence. A complete lie of course, he was looking mighty fine with his solid chest and muscular arms, those beautiful assessing eyes and the quirky smirk. Her stomach clenched.

"Hey Julie," he responded in that smooth, deep voice of his. "Nice to meet you at last," he held out his hand to her and she shook it. His hand was large and warm. It dwarfed her hand and his tanned skin made her own look starkly white. Her father looked at them back and forth in amazement obviously forgetting that they didn't actually know one another.

"You haven't met?"

"Well it feels like we have," Tim announced. Julie's gaze moved to him too quickly and her neck yanked. He saw her clenched forehead and chuckled. "I have heard just about every Julie-story that exists...three maybe four times."

"Lucky me," she

"And the naked photos..."those four words hung in the air.

**Author's Note** – Big thanks to the reviewers (Aquinna, Missgwen33, Kareene, Mairamount, Jodes, ScarlettLetters (who I am going to write with soon, fingers crossed), Punkenboo, Jess and WrenBailey). I love the love! Big thanks to Kareene for beta-ing and deducing patterns in my writing – you are a freak...a loveable one.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 3**

"Naked photos...?" she asked. Her face was gobsmacked and he just stood there grinning at her wickedly, daring her to say something. It was as though they had known each other a long time and in a way they had, through stories and photos. They had shared ten years of memories, albeit through third parties. What naked photos? There weren't any. She hadn't really had all that many boyfriends and there was no way in hell she would allow them to take photos of her naked. She had a hard enough time looking at herself in the mirror some days.

"Tim, what the hell are you talking about?" Her father's gaze was darting back and forth, between her and their guest. Tim's grin widening and Julie felt a fission of fear curl through her despite knowing that there was nothing to be worried about. He was unpredictable and he was enjoying this way too much. He lowered the flowers and red wine to the cabinet top and looked at her grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Oh Julie, you know that time you were in the bath?" Her father's head snapped round to her and she was positive her face would have been one of completely shock and confusion. That and the blush that was rising up from her chest, up her neck and creeping across her face.

"I don't know what he's talking about Dad," she said apologetically to her father. Her dad looked pointedly at Tim and the guest sighed.

'Oh I say it was around twenty years or so. Your dad had a horrible moustache, you mom had a mullet and it looked like fun," he laughed. Julie just stared at him, the blush draining away as she realised that he was a jerk. Her father on the other hand thought this "joke" was hilarious and resumed patting Tim on the back. Julie's lip curled up in distaste and she resumed her attention on the simmering chilli. She felt a presence move up beside her and she refused to acknowledge it. Neither one of those males had done her any favours in the past five minutes.

"So it really is nice to meet you after all these years," that voice of his travelled right through her. She fought the urge to shiver in response. She refused to look at him though.

"Oh really, from your lovely introduction I would never have guessed," she sulked. This was not the way it was supposed to go.

"Well you were awful cute with your hair in the, the ..." he gestured with both hands to either side of his head. "Well you know, you have that big smile on your face and that rubber ducky strategically placed." Okay she might have let one giggle out, one solitary giggle and that was it but she wasn't looking at him.

"Grandma took the photo," she informed me trying to take control over their conversation. He wasn't touching her or even that close to her but she could feel his warmth. They stood there in the small kitchen cocooned in the chilli aromas, standing still except for the occasional spoon movement.

"Is that the grandma, you got your famous rack from?" The question shocked her enough that she dropped the spoon, splattering chilli across her and him.

"WHAT!?" she exclaimed. At that moment her mother entered the room, quickly assessing the near-disaster with one assessing glance. She had Tim stirring the chilli while she hustled Julie into her bedroom. Going straight for the closet she started moving hangers around trying to find something.

"Mom, what are you doing?" Julie asked.

"Well that shirt is ruined and I need to find you something else to wear," the hangers continued to be swept along the bar of the closet. Julie looked down she had done considerable damage to her shirt, in fact she was plastered with red gloop. She had been so caught up in what he's said that she'd destroyed her favourite shirt. Her mom quickly handed her something and Julie disrobing and pulled on the new shirt. It was red and, like many items of her mother's clothes, had a very deep v-neck. The boobs that Tim mentioned were now on display. She groaned in frustration.

"C'mon honey, let's eat. And be nice to him, he's having a rough time." her mom lead her back down the corridor to the kitchen where in her absence Tim and her father had dished up and were sitting patiently at the table. How hard could his life be? His team had just won the freaking Superbowl and he was legendary.

Red wine was poured into the wine glasses already and her father was itching for them to eat his speciality dish. Julie noticed that Tim's shirt was peppered with red spots but was no where near as bad as she had looked. He looked her up and down, delicately as her parents and sister were there, checking out her form. She huffed and puffed and sat her ass down. This was all his fault and Shelley's, her aunt always carried on about Julie's inheriting the family's famous rack. It was ridiculous. He must have heard that from her. He didn't look at her but having him seated next to her, she could detect the ever present smirk from the corner of her eye. She focused on her food, the chilli was divine and the cornbread was delicious. Julie was probably knocking back too much wine but she really didn't care.

"So Tim, what do you have planned now? Are you staying in Denver?" her father went straight for the jugular, she almost felt sorry for the guy. He was in town for a break and ended up roped into an inquisition. Poor guy. The smirk faded, he wasn't enjoying this line of discussion. She pounced, this could be her story.

"You don't want to stay in Denver?" she asked. He turned toward her and looked at her assessingly for a moment like he was trying to work her out.

"I don't know. I miss Texas, ya know?" his voice was quiet.

"Yeah I know, I was in Washington for college. I totally understand. Would you take it, if the Cowboys offered you a contract?" she was asking for her career but she was also interested.

"Are you asking for you or for your paper?" he remarked casually. She was a little shocked and she didn't know why. Of course he knew what she did, he spoke to her father all the time. The harsh assessment of her character was a little harder to bear.

"Well it would be a great story but we're not on the record. If you'd be okay with that, that would be awesome but I am interested regardless. I know what it was like to miss the way people speak and walk. The terrain, friends, family. To feel foreign in your own country. I understand." She gave a tiny smile and his eyes crinkled a little and in his eyes she saw that he believed her. He gave a slight nod and then shovelled a too large amount of chilli into his mouth. His cheeks were puffed out from the effort of containing the chilli but he sent her a smile. She laughed at that, you'd have to be a humourless oaf not too. She dug her spoon into her own chilli and enjoyed the taste.

**Ooooo**

Later on all five of them were in various positions all over the lounge room watching the hilarity of a grade school production. Her mom and dad were entwined on the coach like normal, whispering to each other every now and again. Gracie lay on her belly, her chin resting in her hands as close to the television as humanly possible. She was entranced by her own image which was concerning and hilarious all at once. Julie had sat in the other available single armchair, her legs crossed on the padded fabric. Tim had entered the room last having hit the bathroom. Seeing limited places he had plonked himself on the floor, his back leaning up again her chair. He was inches in front of her, his eyes intent on the screen.

As she watched and laughed at her sister's performance she wondered. She wondered what Tim Riggins was doing here in the Taylor house, eating chilli and watching an eight year old's rendition of Edelweiss. Something was up with him and she wanted to know what. And a sneaking feeling came over her that this wasn't all professional. She wanted to know him and help him. She had never felt such a connection with someone straight away. She was going to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Tim.

**Author's Note** –I hope you enjoy the new chapter. Reviews are very welcomed.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 4**

The night had ended with polite farewells and that was it. As they all waved Tim off, she had tried to get some answers from her father –

"So what's going on with him?" she said it casually, trying not to sound too interested. Her dad's eyes scrunched suspiciously.

"If you're so interested ask him yourself," he replied.

She huffed. "Maybe I will." It had all been extremely anti-climatic. She ended up leaving her parent's house with a couple of hugs, a Tupperware container of her dad's chilli and a shirt showing off her grandma's cleavage. Great, just great.

**ooooo**

As she snuggled into her bed that night she thought of Tim Riggins some more. She hadn't really seen him so much as a guy in the past, rather more as the competition for her father's affections. It was bizarre to think that this guy had such an immediate affect on her emotions and her mind and well her body too. She tossed and turned and it was clear that she was not going to get any sleep.

Stepping out into her kitchen she reached for on the bottles of wine her friend Naomi had brought over many evenings before. Pouring herself an oversized class of red wine she sat on her couch, scrunching her feet up under the cushions and taking regular and sizeable sips of the crimson liquid. It went down easy, a 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon from Australia. She kept drinking to drown out the thoughts of his beautiful eyes, his classic face, his godlike body and worst, the way he could make her unsure of herself.

He had a way of making her inside squelch. He kept her on her toes, something no one else had really achieved. For as long as she could remember she had been focussed on furthering her career and she had set her sights on scoring a Tim Riggins exclusive interview. He'd called her on that though, he knew what she did and was clearly unapproving. She didn't see him conceding though. She wanted to know what was happening to him in his world?

Returning to Texas was an attractive idea. She was proof that there was no running away. He was clearly at loose ends in his life and coming back to Texas and his old coach for answers. Maybe she could help. She consumed another mouthful of wine and pondered that thought. She was intrigued she would admit to that. He thrilled her. She finished off the remnants of her wine and shuffled back to her room, curling under the covers and smiling at her last conscious thought was off a smart ass smile.

**ooooo**

She needed to see him again, wheedle the story out of him. Convince him to give her an interview, to allow her to break the story of whatever news she knew he was sitting on. She had to convince him that she would be the best person to break the story, to treat him respectfully. Once she achieved that the world was hers, she would be able to score any position she wanted on a number of papers around America.

Julie knew she had to get close to him again, get him talking. Maybe be part in some harmless flirting as well. But she didn't think he would fall into his lap like she had the night before. Her dad knew something more than he was letting on and he had no intention of telling her. She would have to get to actual, yummy source of information.

Her father was Tim's go-to man for advice along with Street. Street wasn't here so it made sense that Tim would be spending some time with the Coach, had probably even come to Austin to get that time. She needed to find out where her father was right now. She picked up the phone and dialled her parent's phone number.

Julie tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for her mother to pick up.

"Hello, Taylor residence," it was Gracie, she may have to wait through a volley of questions about her performance last night. Julie assumed a fake voice.

"Um hello little lady, would a Mrs Tami Taylor be available?" she sounded like a mix between Cher and Ernie from Sesame Street.

"Sure," Gracie had appeared to have bought it. "Mooooooooooooooooooom, Julie's on the phone," Okay maybe she hadn't been as convincing at she had wished.

"Hello darlin'. Why are you calling so soon?" her mother's voice rang clearly through the phone.

"I'm just calling to say thanks for the meal. I think Dad's improved on the original recipe," Her mom snorted as that, Julie had over played her hand but she was charging on regardless. "I'll bring the shirt back next time I come over."

"No problem dear. Now what are you really calling about?" her mom cut right to the chase.

Julie sighed, she'd been caught out. "You wouldn't happen to know when Dad might be out with Tim Riggins soon, would you?"

"What are you up to?" her mother asked pointedly. Julie scrambled, she needed something that would get her mom to back off.

"Well Tim is awful cute," she tried to sound like some of those pathetic girls in high school that deserved a good kick in the head. "I thought maybe I could ask him out,"

"That sounds nice darlin'. But I don't think he's really wants something like that now," Julie was intrigued, her mom knew something as well. "They're actually at the driving range now but..." Julie had already hung up the phone and grabbed her keys.

**ooooo**

Julie walked into the driving range and spotted them immediately. Her father was dressed in his unofficial uniform of shorts and a polo shirt while Tim was wearing jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt and a cap backwards. They were ribbing each other pretty well from what she could see and felt bad for interrupting. She sauntered up, her hands in her back pockets of her jeans and a lazy smile on her face. Her dad was unaware of her approach but she saw Tim spot her out of the corner of his eye and then smile.

"Hey Dad," she called out. Her father head did a double take as he realise that his eldest daughter was making an appearance at his driving range.

"Julie?" he was obviously confused by her presence in this treasured place where the Taylor women didn't dare enter. Well until now.

"Hey. Mom couldn't get a hold of you and she really needs to talk to you," Julie lied. She knew her dad continually forgot to charge his phone and the chances were he would take her lie on face value. Eric looked momentarily panicked and then walked off the payphones. Her dad was so uninvolved with technology that he hadn't even bothered to borrow her phone. Between television remotes and cell phones, Eric Taylor was in a world on confusion.

"Hey Tim," she directed her biggest, brightest smile at him. He didn't bother saying anything, he just placed a new ball on the tee and swung at it with the golf club. Julie watched it with her hand shading her eyes and it kept travelling further and further away from her.

"You've got great form," she complimented as she watched the ball thud to the ground.

"Well thank you, I work out," she quickly looked at him realised how he had deliberately misconstrued what she had said. She had to smile.

"Look I was wondering if perhaps I could grab some time with you, maybe have an interview or something?" she wasn't being very successful in taking charge of this conversation.

"Maybe," she sighed, it could happen. "On one condition." Her stomach dropped, this might be bad.

"You let me take you out to dinner," he smirked at her.

"Yeah, that's a no." Her heart was thudding and her brain was telling her she was stupid but it really wasn't a great idea professionally.

"A coffee?"

"Maybe." She replied. "On one condition." He looked at her with new found respect.

"Okay, what is this condition?" he asked, too intrigued to not ask. Crap. Now she had to think of one. Great Julie, just great.

**Author's Note** – Thanks for all the fantastic reviews. I am currently writing three different stories and the reviews are a great encouragement to continue. I presume if you are reading chapter 4 of this story that you don't mind my style, so I encourage you to check out the story (Waking Up!) I am co-authoring with ScarlettLetters if you haven't already. Cheers, WhoJ.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 4**

"What is this condition?" he asked. The question hung in the air like a trapeze artist waiting for the catcher to receive her. Julie could almost feel the seconds swing back and forth as her mind raced for an ideal condition to having coffee with him, something she actually wanted to do! It was crazy, there were many women who would pay to go out with him and not turn down dinner for a coffee instead. In fact Julie thought she could recall a lady paying 64,000 for a date with him through a kid's charity that he supported. And she got a condition attached?

But did this mean she had the interview regardless?

"I get a condition and an interview in exchange for having a coffee with you?" she asked.

"Well no, you get a condition and a coffee and when you finally agree to a dinner then you might get an interview." He was being cagey. And she was trying to put off inventing a condition. Oooh the possibilities – personal strip show, slave for a day, a massage, her ironing? The ironing was tempting, she hated ironing with a fiery passion undignified for house work.

"Okay one coffee tomorrow with the condition that you let me wear the ring," he looked at her surprised. She had no idea where the idea had come from but obviously it was something she had always wanted to do.

"Marriage? Julie this is all a little soon," he smirked and she punched him in the arm. He slid the Superbowl Championship ring off his finger and passed it to her, she went to grab it and he snatched her hand. Gently he slid the overly large ring onto her forefinger and momentarily Julie sensed what it would be like to be standing at an altar exchanging rings on her wedding day. Shivers flew up and down her spine from that thought and the sensation of his strong hands cradling her own. It was a pretty pimped out ring.

"You're going to have to buy your future wife some seriously blinged out bling to compete with this monstrosity," she offered, she'd never seen so much sparkle on anyone. He smiled a small smile looking at her tiny hand with the gigantic ring dangling off one of her itty fingers.

"Not ever planning on getting hitched," he informed her.

"Why not?" she asked shocked. It wasn't what she was expecting. She'd seen him with Gracie and how much he enjoyed it at her parent's house the night before, surely he wanted that for his self?

"You haven't scored that interview yet Taylor," he joked. She slid the ring off her finger and passed it back to him.

"So I am not allowed to ask a friend questions?" she asked hurt by his insinuation.

"No. Cause you are probably composing your new Tim Riggins story in your head,"

"Fine." She spotted her father coming towards her looking all kinds of pissed off. "Look I gotta go, if you still want the coffee give me a call." She walked off quickly managing to avoid her father and wondering how the hell Tim Riggins was going to get her number.

**ooooo**

The next afternoon she was waiting in the cafe as instructed. She'd received a three word text with the place, time and his name listed. Not the most romantic or wooing message she had received. She had turned up obscenely early. She scouted the tables, where should she sit? The front of the cafe? No, he'd attract too much attention with his Wheeties box face. The back? No, people would think they have having some sort of naughty assignation. The middle? Too public and she wanted to be relatively undisturbed with the likelihood of eavesdropping minimised. So it was the side of the room which wasn't all that much to speak of but there was where she plonked her butt.

She got out her notebook and started working on her thrilling sewage plant opening article. She liked using a pen to write her stories. She felt a shift around her. She looked up to see Tim Riggins sliding into the seat opposite her and in one foul swoop he had lifted her notebook. She grabbed for it but he was too quick. He held it close to his face indicating that he may have a sight issue or two.

"So I thought people used computers these days," he asked handing back her notebook.

"Well I am a little more traditional. Hello Tim," she smiled.

"Traditional or not, it doesn't save you from writing a shit story," he dissolved into laughter as this. A great booming sound that ping-ponged all around the room and garnered stares. People started to notice who was sitting with her.

"That was poor, " she groaned. "But an apt pun." She giggled too. He was great at getting her to see the lighter side of life but she could do without the audience. He didn't seem to mind it, almost oblivious of the attention.

"Hello Julie and how are you?" he asked politely, remembering that he had just barged his way into a conversation with her.

"Not bad and you?" she responded. She realised she was twisting a strand of hair around her finger and abruptly stopped. Could she be anymore of a girl?

"Spent a whole morning avoiding reporters." The sentence hung in the air, an awkward silence drifting between them.

"Ahh, message received," she stated. "You know I was telling you the truth the other night. I won't print anything off the record. You don't have to worry about that. You can trust me."

"That's what they all say," he kidded and the waitress approached to get their orders. He ordered something distinctly girly and she had to twitter.

"So why are you so determined to consume food and drink with me, a bottom feeding, lowlife journalist?" she asked.

"Because you're the one girl in Dillon I haven't slept with," her head snapped up at that one. What the ...? "Ooh I so had you on that one," he laughed so more. He seemed to enjoy pulling her chain for his own amusement.

"Listen Mr Superbowl, stop with the chatting. When can I have my interview?" she asked.

"Once you've had dinner with me...maybe" he suggested.

"Well if we have the interview now, then you'll know that I am interested in you and not the story," she posed.

"Oh darlin' I know you are interesting in the _story_ and in _me_, don't worry about that. So dinner?" he smiled again. She threw him a glare. At that moment the tension between them was enormous and then there was the girl. The waitress arrived giggling as she placed the coffees on the table, only now realising who she had been waiting on. She shying asked for an autograph and Tim's attention moved to her as he signed her order pad. He handed it back to her with a smile and the waitress nearly melted. Julie choked back the snide comment just waiting to be delivered.

"No I don't think so Sparky, considering all that," she waved towards the waitress and all the customers now staring at them like they were in a zoo. "I am not into it at all."

"And you think I am?" he asked surprised like the attention was abhorrent to him. He was quiet for a few moments and Julie worried that she had offended him. He face was down as if plotting his next move. He tone was completely sincere. "So how about you cook dinner for me at your place, nice and private. Tonight?" he took a big swig of his coffee and a residue piece of whipped cream clung to his upper lip. She wanted to lick it off. Then the words began to seep into her consciousness and she opened her mouth to refuse "You want the interview right?" he asked with a small smile. She didn't have anything else to say.

"Is seven okay?" Bugger the ass had her.

**Author's Note** – I have written this chapter twice and I do believe the first time was better. Unfortunately my computer had an I Hate WhoJ day and spazzed out. Hence the second version.

**Author's Note** –


	6. Chapter 6

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 6**

To say that Julie was freaking out would be to underestimate what a freak out looked like. After the coffee date she had rushed back to her place to clean up. She wasn't a dirty person but she was one that seemed to collect clutter without even trying. She ran around her tiny apartment whipping up clothing, notebooks and books like a whirling dervish. The big test was when she came to the bedroom, should she clean it up? Was she really required to provide a self-invited guest with a tour of her home? Would she even allow him entry in the bedroom? She cleaned up anyway convincing herself she was covered for all eventualities. The bed was the last problem in the room. Should she change the sheets? Was it better to be prepared for a _certain_ event or to continue to pretend that the sparks didn't exist between them? In the end she left it, she wasn't that kind of girl even if the guy was possibly the most breathtaking individual she had ever encountered.

Dinner was a problem, she didn't really cook all that much. She assumed that her manning the stove that night at her parent's gave him the wrong impression of her. A domesticated impression. She wasn't someone who would go out of her way to cook for one person. She ate alone so much that preparing an entire dinner was usually the last thing she felt like doing when she got home. But she still had to make something, she had two standbys and she had to decide –lasagne or spaghetti bolognaise. Not exactly the most dynamic or sophisticated of foods but possible. She no longer cared. She headed for the supermarket intent of buying all the necessaries so she could get this freaking night over and done with.

The market was jammed with people. She got pram-blocked five times and trolley-blocked twice, needless to say her mood wasn't exactly glowing. While waiting in a heinously long queue for the check out she noticed a magazine on display. She noticed it because there was a huge picture of Tim on the cover. The title was _Football's Mystery Man_. She wasn't surprised. Tim was very different to the majority of the NFL stars. He was a reluctant role model, a person who treasured their privacy and anonymity. Something that was difficult to have in professional football, especially when you were a success. He had made it easier for himself by not attending the premieres or the parties or accepting offers to host Saturday Night Live. Tim loved football, it wasn't about the trappings or the popularity or the adoration. The public didn't understand his hesitance and it just increased the interest in him as a person.

Tim's lack of interest in talking to the press also frustrated many. They would try to interview him after games and inevitably the footage they shot was unusable due to his inability to use words other than yes and no. He hated the spotlight and he wasn't going to make it easy for them. He made some sponsorship deals where talking or commercials were involved e.g. Weeties. He was truly an enigma to the American public. And to her.

When he was with her, he was full of life and vitality. Making fun of her and her job. Making bad puns. Making deals. No one else saw the guy that willingly sat on the floor of her parent's lounge room floor to watch a particularly painful rendition of I Got Rhythm.

**ooooo**

Julie dressed up, she wore a dress but she refused to put on heels. In fact she had no shoes on at all as she was in her own house and had no intention of leaving. She was taking a stand. She was wearing a black wrap dress that she didn't have to iron and her hair was hastily shoved up on her head fastened with a clip with tendrils running every which way. She wasn't putting in a hundred percent effort, or even a fifty percent one at that.

She set the table, refusing to put candles upon it as 1) this wasn't a proper date and 2) she wasn't that clichéd. She grabbed a flowering plant from her window sill and plonked it in the centre of the table. She had the lasagne cooking in the oven and garlic bread ready to go. Salad as well. It was about as much as she could handle without going insane. Cooking really wasn't her thing at all.

_Knock, knock_. He was here. She walked up to the door and took a deep breath. She took a peek through the spy hole in the door and checked to see if it was him. He was ready for that, his eye was right up on it and all she could see was his pupil. It was all she needed, she could recognise that eye anywhere. She breathed out a sigh of frustration and opened the door.

"Ah the fair Julie," he announced taking in her bare feet, hair and belligerent expression. "I thought you said you were traditional? Where are the heels, the flouncy skirts, the pearls?" he laughed.

"I believe we were talking about writing at the time and if you want the June Cleaver experience I would suggest you give Lyla a call." She really wasn't in the mood.

"O-kay. " His face showed that he had no idea what the appropriate response was to that snarky reply. He held a bottle of wine in his hands and shoved it in the direction. She snatched it and headed to the kitchen to pour some extremely large glasses, she needed it. "Smells really nice," he complimented her as he stood awkwardly in her living area which was a mash of dining, lounge and kitchen in one. It wasn't impressive but it was homey. Her books lined the shelves that ran an entire wall and it was that which captured his interest. He was standing there in his jeans and checked shirt, hands in pockets inspecting the titles while rocking on the heels of his boots.

"Thanks. I didn't think you were one for reading." She observed as she handed him his glass of red wine. He thanked her with the bob of the head.

"I've had time to develop a bit of an interest. It's easier spending time home then going out and being recognised." She didn't respond, nodding her understanding and allowing the silence to take care of the rest. She couldn't contemplate living such an existence but it was the price he was paying for being an ultimate athlete. He spoke, not looking in her direction, his gaze still upon the bookshelf.

"Why are you so insistent on spending time with me when you don't respect what I do?" the question popped out of her head before she had even had time to process it. She couldn't reconcile the flirtation with the jabs about her trustworthiness. Her tone was calm and inquiring.

"Once, earlier on in my career I trusted someone and their intent wasn't to look after my best interests." It was suitably vague and she was clearly not going to get more information from the closed look upon his face. "I have some trust issues but you've always intrigued me. I was surrounded by pictures of you and stories of you for most of my teen years. I knew about you and now it's my time to know you." He didn't follow this with a smirk or a chuckle, it was simply the truth. She knew all about that, she'd been the in the same situation. He turned to look at her.

"And what have you found?" she asked quietly, almost afraid of his answer. She took a sip of wine to still her nearly trembling bottom lip.

"That my suspicions were correct. You are someone I like, someone who challenges me and someone I want to know more of and spend time with..." he looked back at the books and grabbed one volume by its spine. She sensed a withholding of more but didn't want to interrupt him in a moment of honesty. "I liked this one." Julie a little stunned by the gravity of their conversation and his revelation gazed blurrily at the book. It was Pride and Prejudice, her favourite.

**Author's Note** – Thanks for the smashing reviews and all those who added me to the favourites and alert lists. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 7**

Tim Riggins liked Pride and Prejudice? Julie stopped breathing, it was quite possibly the most perfect thing he could say to her in that moment. She looked at him, her mouth open and her eyebrows raised. She raised her wine glass to her mouth again and downed the rest of the red liquid. It quickly trickled down her throat she let its smooth flavour run over her tongue and numb her. She let her eyes dart to the side and she saw that he was watching her.

He turned his head to the side, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. It was perhaps one of the hottest things that Julie had ever witnessed.

"That lasagne smells awesome," he stated and she nodded absentmindedly. How was it possible for her to be majorly pissed off with him one moment and then lusting after him the next. She was drawn to him in a way that scared her but she sensed that he felt that way for her. Was it real though? Was it just plain interest or something more? Her blood was pumping furiously through her veins and the wine was beginning to give her a buzz.

"Well prepare for disappointment, it probably won't taste awesome," she sighed. He looked at her in confusion. "I am not much of a chef." She shrugged a little embarrassed but defiant.

"You get better when you practise." She snorted. "No I am serious, all I could do when I left home was a sandwich and now I have worked my way up to a pretty good roll."

Julie had to laugh at that. Thank god he didn't cook too or she would have melted right there in the spot she was standing. No one could be that perfect looking, be that talented at football, read Austen and cook. The world would spontaneously combust. Or he'd be able impregnate females from being within a two foot radius of them without touching them. It just wasn't fair. All of a sudden she wished she'd made more of an effort with her appearance. She pushed some of the tendrils behind her ears and went to hide in the kitchen for awhile. The lasagne should be ready and then they could eat and this would be over soon.

She left the plump carpeting of her living area and onto the cool tiles of her kitchen. She was regretting the no shoes choice now too. She needed some more height around him so she didn't feel like a member of the Lollipop Guild. She lowered herself in front of the oven, opening it and reaching in with dish towel swathed hands. She pulled it out as fragrant steam lifted from the dish and travelled away. It smelled good and the top was ugly as ugly could be, it should be tasty. She turned and placed it down to serve. The garlic bread was ready to and she chucked it with little thought into a basket. She hurriedly took the basket and plopped it on the table and turned back for the individual lasagne pieces.

"Dinner's up," she called out and he turned away from her book collection. It wasn't all that polite of her but she wasn't one to pander and as he was so suspicious of her anyway. She placed the plate on one side of the 

table and another on the opposite side. The table wasn't all that huge but she needed as much distance from him as humanly possible.

"Thanks for doing this, it looks real nice." She snorted at that and he turned a full beam smile on to her and she found herself inadvertently smiling at him. Darn him and his face.

"No problem." He stood waiting to sit after she had and she was surprised at the gallantry. She wasn't expecting many things she was seeing tonight. She offered him the garlic bread then the salad and he partook heartily of both and she tried to beat down the pleasure she was feeling. She looked down at her own and cut a portion putting it into her mouth, it was good but the top was unbelievably crunchy. Rip a hole in your cheek crunchy. Tim was watching her with a secret smile on his face not yet having taken a bite. Seeing her face and hearing the crunching noises he quickly decapitated the piece of lasagne and ate heartily from the bottom. His mouth full with food, his cheeks were puffed our and a huge smile on his face.

"Sorry," she muttered. "It's a little hard on the top..."

"A little? It sounds like it could cut glass," she shot him a warning glance and concentrated on chewing her way through that first bite.

"I did tell you..." she stated a little put out.

"I know and I invited myself over huh?" he smiled.

"I didn't mean for it to suck though," she laughed. She put her head in her hands and moaned. "But the salad and the garlic bread are good." He looked at both sitting on his plate sceptically. "Don't be a tool," she announced and he dove in. Moaning with delight in a completely fake way he ate the remains of the lasagne, salad and the bread.

"Actually they weren't too bad..."

"You sound surprised," she noted.

"Aren't you?" he jibed. She nodded serenely and then started picking up the remains of dinner. "Let's have some more wine." He suggested and she had never heard of anything so brilliant. She waved him off to the 

couch as she fetched the wine bottle. She sat down next to him and began filling their empty wine glass with a glug, glug, glug.

"So Jules..." it was interesting how that nickname rolled so easily off his tongue and didn't offend her.

"So Tim..." she mimicked snarkily. He looked towards her with an expression that could be only summarised as _c'mon, seriously_.

"What are you doing working for that little hack newspaper?" she looked at him in surprise.

"What do you know about my paper?'

"I know it's tiny, it's wasting your talent on stupid stories and you are bored out of your brain." Yep, he had summarised it all quite nicely. "So what are you doing to change that?" he asked.

"Well Tim, I'm trying to get an interview from the Superbowl MVP but he's being a cagey ass. I might get some notice then. What do you suggest to get him onside?" her tone was mocking and his face smirked at her description of him, he wasn't offended at all.

"Well..." he placed his pointer finger on his chin and sighed. "Maybe if you kiss him he'll give you that interview." He looked at her straight in the eye and cocked an eyebrow daring her. She should be angry that he wanted to exchange a kiss for an interview but she wasn't. She was too compelled by him.

"Yeah I don't think so," she said shaking her head allowing more tendrils to fall. He lifted his hand and it froze mid air as if he were questioning what to do next. Then the hand resumed its movement to her temple where he gently moved some of the strands behind her ear. She was frozen in place, staring at his beautifully callused hand interplay with her blonde hair. The last strand remained and he stretched it out, testing the fineness with his thumb and forefinger. Her insides melted just watching it. He moved in.

"Fine." She choked on her attraction to him. She might as well get something out of something she would do regardless. "Deal?" she held her hand out and he stared at it laughing.

"Deal." He agreed placing his hand securely within her own and shaking it. Then he pulled her into him, cradling her head with his hands and kissed her senseless with passion, hunger and some undefined quality.

Julie's lips moved against his instinctually. Breathing in his scent and tasting her own lasagne on his tongue. Thankfully both of them had eaten the garlic bread or this could be repellent. She sighed into his mouth as he continued his attack on her lips, her tongue. She'd never been so turned. Damn she should have cleaned the bedroom.

**Author's Note** – Review already, I finally updated this one and I need the encouragement.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 8**

Poised on the couch with Tim Riggins' body and arms wrapped around her, his lips upon hers, Julie was nearly drawn to breaking point. His mouth was persistent, he dragged his lips against her own and she heard a moan escape from the back of her throat. She flushed red and he traced the movement of colour with the tips of his finger right up to her swollen lips. She delicately, fleetingly kissed its tip and smiled saucily at him. They were staring at one another hungrily as if they were the only two people who had ever felt this yearning desire for one another.

Julie looked at him and took her lip between her teeth, biting it in contemplation. The movement seemed to mesmerise him. She rushed at him, similar to a bull at a gate, knocking him back against the couch so that she was spread eagled atop him. Her mouth had connected with his immediately; her concentration was solely on the sensation of his tongue against her own. In the fogginess of her brain she also realised that he was trying to reconfigure their positions to be more comfortable. With his last shimmy, she was flush against him, hip to hip, belly to belly and chest to chest.

Tim had wrapped his arms tightly around her again and they were almost as one. He was like rock – a rock that was warm and alive though. Her hand moved from his neck down over his shoulders to trace the ripples of his abdomen. He shivered and sucked in a breath, her touch definitely having an effect on him. He groaned into her lips and she smiled. He hand kept moving down further until she got to his belt buckle. He sucked in another breath and she could tell that he was _very_ happy to see her. In an instant he was gently moving her off him and was standing next to the couch, his body rigid.

"What? What's the matter?" she asked completely confused by his actions. He looked at her with a pained and conflicted expression on his face. "You're Coach Taylor's daughter." She laughed at that, it was ridiculous. The sexual tension between them had been simmering for days now and all the anger and jokes they both could summon couldn't hide it.

"Firstly, he's not your coach anymore, you can call him Eric. Secondly, I want you and you," she nodded towards his jeans "definitely want me. We are consenting adults." She smiled up at him and stretched her arms up welcoming him back to the couch. She stared for a moment, his face clearly conflicted. He shook his head, his long head flaring out around him.

"He's like a dad to me," he tried to explain.

"And you are certainly not my brother!" she was beginning to get agitated with him.

"That's not what I meant." He sighed audibly. "I can't do something knowing it could break ties with the only family I have ever had." He sounded pained and she wasn't sure if it was from the words or little Timmy trying to break free from his jeans.

"Are you serious?" she was aghast. "Bugger that," she reached up for his and pulled his down to her on the couch. His hand brackets her on the couch and he kissed her feverishly and then pulled back again. She hit him in the chest with her hands simultaneously like a two high fives but hard enough to hurt. He looked shocked that a little girl like her could inflict any kind of harm on his person.

"Look Jules, I'll give you the interview and then we'll staying clear of one another. I think its best because whatever there is between us is pretty strong." He wasn't joking now and she wanted to see that humour filled smirk again more than anything.

"Tim I really don't think he'd have a problem with it and I am a fully grown woman," he glanced down her body and gulped. "We don't have to tell him if you are that worried."

"It's not that. I know he'd be beyond happy if we were together but I can't disappoint him Jules,"

"How would you, Golden Boy Riggins, disappoint him?" she was struggling to find the logic. Sure she had the interview she wanted but now all she wanted was him.

"I don't have the greatest track record in relationships and I can't do that to you. It will be my fault and your dad will detest me and then the only thing that is real in my life will be gone," she sat there as all this spilled out of his mouth and she had no understanding of what he was talking about. Maybe more had occurred than NFL success, someone had done a real job on him. He doubted himself and others. She felt her heart cry out for him. He looked so lonely, so alone, like always. No that wasn't true, he never looked like that when he was at her parents. She wasn't going to push him, he was clearly not in the giving the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth mindset.

"You think my dad wants us together?" she asked curiously, her head cocked to the side. Her forehead wrinkled quizzically. She hadn't ever really thought about it.

"Julie."

"Yeah"

"What did you think the other night was about? At their house?" she was perplexed. He laughed at her, the tension in the room dissipating.

"It was their way of setting us up." He looked at her like she was having a momentary lapse of stupidity. She had had no idea.

"So he knew we hadn't met each other before?" Tim broke into a torrent of laughter completely at odds from moments before.

"Julie, you don't know your father at all." He joked.

"He thought watching poorly sung musical numbers would have a magical effect upon us?" she giggled.

"No, I think he was putting all his stock into the power of his chilli." He chuckled. Then both of them went silent when they remembered that she had liberally doused both on them in it. It had worked...too well. But it was so much like her dad to imagine that his chilli had the power to bring people together. Then they were howling with laughter.

oOoOo

It took awhile for them to calm after laughing so long. He insisted upon helping with the washing up. She didn't have a dishwasher but he didn't seem to mind. He insisted she stay seated on the kitchen counter while he washed his way through the dishes. He wouldn't even let her help. They talked, the thoughts of more physical activities lessened as they learned more about one another.

Julie found herself paying attention to the most curious of things. The way his back muscles moved beneath his shirt. The lyrical timber of his low voice and how she could feel it resonate within her. The way his beautifully large, callused hands deftly managed slippery plates. All of it called to her on some base level. He was right, there was something strong between them and she didn't want to deny it. But then again, she had less to lose.

Tim finished drying the last dish, tossing the damp dish towel over his shoulder and turning around to her. He had a grin on his face.

"That was fun," he smiled.

"Doing the dishes was fun?" she asked dryly.

"Well it was because I was talking to you." She blushed at his compliment.

"Tim, it only gets harder when you say things like that." She offered.

"I was giving a compliment. That's all." How disappointing. They got alone really well, she was hot for his body and he liked doing the dishes. And he had issues coming out of his ass. There always was a snag.

"I gotta go now," he said, whipping off the dish towel and threading it gently through the oven handle to dry.

"Well thanks for coming, I am glad I failed in my attempt to poison you," she joked feebly. She smiled at him, the fear that she was about to lose something wash over her.

"I'll call you tomorrow and set up an interview. I want to do what I can to help you out." She could see in his eyes that he meant that and her heart jigged in her chest.

"Thanks Tim," she held her arms out to hug him. He looked at her, sitting on the bench with her arms out and considered it for a moment. He stepped into the cupboard and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. She pressed her palms against the breadth of his muscles back and tried to memorise his scent as her nose rested in his hair. His chin rested on her shoulder and then he stepped back.

"Thanks Jules," and with that he turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving her alone in the kitchen with only the remaining red wine as company.

**Author's Note** – Thanks for your patience. Enjoy and review. Or else I might have to throw some chilli on you ... wait a minute scrap that!


	9. Chapter 9

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 9**

Julie woke up in her bed after the best and most unfulfilling dream she had ever had. He was plaguing her dreams now and the rumpled sheets and frenetic hair were testament to what they had been doing in her dream. She placed her head back heavily against the pillow, closed her eyes and summoned the memory of his scent. Thrills, chills and zippity zaps ran through her body at the recall, it was amazing to think he was more incredible in life. And that amazing-ness was trickling through her fingers like sand on the beach.

Tim Riggins was cheeky, quick witted, learned, stubborn, manipulative and worst of all, a gentleman. She was addicted to all those things about him and yet there was an immovability that called to her curiosity. He was giving her the interview today but she wouldn't get any of the answers she wanted. She sighed, wiggling her toes. At least he made life interesting.

oOoOo

She met him in this little park that she had been unaware of, his text giving brief yet exact directions. It seemed interesting to her that she had lived there years and he visited a handful of times and knew of places she didn't. It was green, leafy and filled with the sounds of children playing on the playground. They were sitting on a bench facing the playground, nursing coffee and doing their best to ignore the elephant in the park – the very tense and somewhat flammable attraction flaring between them.

"So...interview time huh?" she asked sounding anything other than a capable journalist. Tim glanced at her with a quick grin, took a swig of coffee and went to put his arm around the back of the bench. As soon as his hand was within an inch of her, it snuck quickly back to his side. They sat there, next to one another, a chasm between them and awkwardness floating around them like a swarm of bees.

"Ask away" he said still looking forward. He was known as someone who didn't like being in the spotlight. He avoided interviews on camera and off, preferring to let his more outspoken team mates do the talking. There hadn't even been an in depth interview with Tim Riggins at any point in his career, she was scoring a major coup.

Julie held a dictophone out at him with a questioning look and his nodded his approval. She had prepared for hours before to have questions burned into her memory. Yet sitting there on the park bench in her jeans and flip flops she felt young and distinctly ill prepared. He looked at her, noting her sickened expression.

"It's okay, " he rubbed her back and snatched it back before she could really absorb the warmth of his hand. She launched into the interview covering his high school and college years, Eric Taylor's impact on his game, the early years in the NFL and then the Superbowl win. She asked him about his charity involvement, of which he was surprised she had learnt of and even about his reading habits of which he had illuminated her the night 

before. He answered quickly but surely. He gave enough detail for an accurate picture of him could be detailed and still managed to keep some measure of privacy for himself.

"You're good at this. Why don't you do more?" she asked.

"You say no enough, people stop asking. I don't like talking about myself all that much. Perhaps I was waiting for the right question asker..." he smirked at that. She fought her impulse to blush unsuccessfully.

"Okay then, here's a doozy for you. Are you planning on returning to Texas?" his head snapped towards her and he cracked up laughing.

"I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask that one." He chuckled.

"Well?" she prodded.

"On the record, I am quite happy with my team and living in Denver. Off the record..." he chuckled again as she leaned forward. "I am looking to return to Texas, be near my family."

"Isn't Billy in California?" she asked.

"Not that family, I was meaning yours." It was bizarre to hear her family be referred to as his but she guessed that was the best label for it.

"You'd get more attention here than what you were getting in Denver." She noted, his aversion to attention highlighting the riskiness of the move to the football mecca.

"I didn't say I would play." The words hung in the air as she rapidly tried to process these words.

"You're quitting?" she gasped.

"I am retiring. I have had enough." He stated softly and she realised how hard he had struggled against the NFL ideal.

"What are you going to do?" she wondered. "Be a man of leisure?" he certainly would have enough money to live off of trusting he had invested it wisely. She knew he had money in a few successful businesses so he really could sit back and relax.

"God no," he gaffed. "I am down here to try and grab a coaching position with one of the high schools."

"Try? You mean they don't want you?" she asked, who wouldn't want a Superbowl MVP coaching their high school team?

"No they do but I want to prove that I am committed to it and that I am taking it seriously. I want to do for others what your dad did for me. I want this more than I wanted the Superbowl," it sounded blasphemous. But having him heard about his life as unreal and so on she thought she was getting a handle on his need for a normal life.

"So you want to coach high school football?" he nodded a grin spreading at her amazement. "You want to have a more substantial existence?" he nodded again.

"There is more to life than bling and Moet. Although don't tell the Bronco's running back that," he joked. It was as if voicing this decision of his had freed him to enjoy his choice.

"So why does this "new life" exclude a family of your own?" she asked. She admitted that it bugged her that he didn't want this for himself when clearly he was made for it. He groaned and swung around to look at her.

"You can't leave stuff alone, can you?" he was smiling which took away from his words.

"Nope," she grinned back.

"You know how I have been giving you a hard time about being a journalist and your intentions?"

"No Tim, I wouldn't know anything about that at all," she responded with a plenty of sarcasm.

He was serious though. "Right back when I started in the NFL I was still a little like I was in high school, you know with the girls, you know like ..."

"A man whore?" she interjected.

"Wow I haven't heard that in years,"

"That's because in your world they are called your teammates," she snarked. He laughed tremendously at that, bending at his middle to contain his beautiful sounding, deep laughter.

"But I met this girl, she was amazing. She was beautiful, smart and she kept me on my toes. I even thought that she was too good for me. So we've been together two months or so, everything is going great. I could see myself with this girl long term. Picket fence, two point three kids, the whole enchilada."

The acid taste of jealousy ran rampant in her mouth. Her stomach was clenching and she wanted badly for this girl to have been a complete psycho. She knew this probably didn't have a happy ending but she rued the girl for having a go with Tim, something he was refusing to give to her. She went forth knowing that the answer to this question could be her undoing.

"So the question is...what happened?" Julie asked

**Author's Note** – Yes it had been awhile but last week I was not in a fluffy frame of mind. My story may have become a psychological thriller with violent overtones had I written anything last week and I think I speak for all of us when I say I did us all a favour but not writing. But now I am back and please review.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 11**

"So the question is...what happened?" Julie asked

He sighed. "She had ulterior motives. She wasn't one of the groupies but worse. She was a harpy. She was feeding information to the Denver Post, things I had told her in confidence that I expected to stay between me and her. Nothing too bad but still...the trust was gone. It wasn't until I confronted her that I realised who she really was. Then all the attention came when I signed that new contract and I just baulked. I wanted nothing to do with it. I thought she was my chance at a life like your dad's and I know now that I was being naive. Me, being naive who would have thought? Riggins' don't get happy, peaceful existences? Why should I risk making a possible wife's marriage as bad as my parents' or my children to have a crap childhood like mine? Better to hang back, stay in the shadows and do my bit without letting anyone close enough for me to hurt them." His voice had been quiet and gruff. Emotional, in a devoid of feeling way. Her heart clenched and she was contemplating hunting that floozy down.

Tim had only seen what he wanted for himself in the Taylor household and felt his DNA made it impossible. The girl had just been confirmation that he could trust anyone. Worse still the girl confirmed his fear that he couldn't trust himself or his decisions. Basically she had crippled him and made a hermit-like life seem like a less hurtful option for both him and others. It made sense. A realisation came to her, she shook her head, steeled herself and turned to him as he watched the playground with a resigned look upon his face.

"So let me get this straight...you cut yourself off from a life you'd like because you think you'll be like your father? And you don't want to hurt people like he continues to hurt everyone around him." She looked at him pointedly, her tone angry, her body vibrating with frustration.

"Well not..." he started speaking and she cut him off with a hand to his face.

"Stop right there buster. You know it's what you are thinking and I think it's utter crap." She let the words rush over him. He looked down at his coffee, settled his legs further apart and shook his head slightly.

"It's not crap."

She huffed. "Bullshit. You can be whatever you want to be Tim. No one ever thought you'd be a NFL player and here you are with your ring. You exceeded everyone's expectations...well except for my dad and Street. They are good people and they believe in you and you haven't let them down. You won't let them down. You are different than Walt, you make your own decisions. You are walking away from a high paying, highly visible job because you want to give back. When I hear you say that you are robbing yourself of having what you want because of an example you are nothing like, it pisses me off Tim."

He chuckled at that. She had become more vehement and heated in her speaking with every sentence and to his credit – he listened. He looked at her and shrugged.

"Why risk the possible?"

She exhaled lastly, his doubt grating on her last nerve. "Tim, the fact that you are worried about hurting people or robbing them of a certain experience shows that you are nothing like your father. You are the black sheep of your family Tim – you're the Gentleman Riggins." She laughed at that because it was basically was true, maybe not entirely in high school but now, most certainly." You care and you should allow yourself to have more."

"You hang out with my dad all the time and you know he has no time for jerks. You are basically his son. You have kept your friendship with Street strong for over twenty years. You sat through Gracie's recital and you didn't sleep with me." She smirked at him, she was hitting her stride with this one sided argument.

"You consider that proof?" he questioned sceptically.

"Well I was trying to be awfully convincing and you said no." The disappointment was evident in her voice and she felt his gaze swing to her face. "You care about my family, your relationship with my dad... What can I say to convince you that you should allow yourself to have everything you want? You're going to be a coach and if you think you can stay removed from those kids, you are kidding yourself. A good coach loves his players. You are capable of that, please don't rob yourself of that."

"Was that your spiel to convince me to sleep with you?" she gasped and looked at him. He was grinning at her.

"No!"

"Ah well. You made some good points but I don't want that life anymore." The grin dropped to a half smile, his fingers flexing around the circumference of the coffee cup.

"You don't want ties, family and a whole lot of love?" her face said what her opinion of that was without her having to speak a single extra word.

"No." He said it with finality.

"Tim – I just described a football team. The team is family, you should know that better than anyone. Your family isn't Walt – it's Street, Billy, Dad, Mom, Gracie. And in that family, you are doing a great job."

"What about you?" she was confused, he'd changed directions on her.

"What about me?"

"Are you my family too?" she didn't look at him, staring at the little boy and girl in the playground spinning wildly together in the chuck-it bucket. She had a momentarily flash of thought that that action was very indicative of Tim and her.

"Always." She reached across and tapped his arm comfortingly; she hoped it was comforting anyway. She wanted what was best for him regardless of her own feelings. She sucked it up and turned her head to look at him. He was examining her face thoughtfully, curiosity plastered across his own. He shrugged.

"In a way I knew that coaching would give me something I needed" he conceded. She smiled supportively at him. "You know you should forget the journalism and just write an advice column. You're great at getting to the crux of the matter." She couldn't help but make a disgusted face, advice columnist ewww. "Let me have a turn..."

She moved her body so she was facing Tim on that hard bench. Her right knee was resting on it and all her focus was upon his face.

"Hit me Sparky," she dared him with more than a share of bravado. This would be interesting. With a rush of movement he had his and her bodies tightly melded to one another. His mouth fixed on her own like a heat seeking missile, the shock quickly turned into overwhelming need to reciprocate. He tasted warm and like coffee. She opened her mouth, allowing his onslaught to continue. A soft moan escaped from her throat and mingled with the groan that erupted from him. They both off temporarily to share a chuckle over the synchronised pleasure. He kissed her forehead, then her chin. He moved feverishly with minute kisses from her chin to trace her lips. He plunked a bigger kiss on the tip of her nose and then two gentle ones upon each of her eyelids. She sighed, this was perfect. The sensations stopped and she opened her eyes to see him staring at her face.

"What?" she asked difficulty, her ability to speak diminished.

"I was just thinking that your ears are so cute that I want to ..." he broke off and within an instant found him tracing the whorl of her ear with the tip of his tongue. She shivered when her body's intense joy washed over her. Her place a kiss on her ear lobe and then she felt the gentle but insistent pressure and warmth sucking on her lobe. Her legs would've given out on her had she been standing. She heard some giggles and out of the corner of her eye saw two little girls pointing at them and laughing. He broke away suddenly aware of their environment. Their foreheads were touching as they both tried to control their feverish breathing.

"Well you really did hit me, didn't you?" she laughed.

"With everything I had," he smirked.

"That was everything Tim 'Man Whore' Riggins has? I am sorely disappointed." She said with a completely straight face. His own face scrunched with dismay and then a wicked smile broke out. He whooped out loud, rose from the bench, grabbed her and swung her on his back. Before she knew it, he was piggybacking her at a rapid pace to his car.

"What about my car?" she questioned not wanting to seem like a shameless hussy. The feeling of his muscle bound back beneath her and her legs swung around his waist was almost too much to bear. He'd done in on purpose, the ass.

He stopped instantly and turned his head so she could see his profile, her arms were firmly wound around his neck and her mouth was right up to his hair-curtained ear. He smelt delicious and oh so very manly.

"Do you really care?" he asked.

She questioned herself and then shook her head. "Let's ride, cowboy."

**Author's Note** – Okay it has been a really long time and I apologise. I have been active in a few new projects (podcasting - links to them in my profile) and work has been nuts. Again I am sorry for the break and promise to update this story regularly from now on. Cheers, WhoJ.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 11**

"Let's ride, cowboy."

She really hadn't meant that in the explicit way, she really hadn't. But it really didn't matter any which way because Tim hustled her across the park to his car and unceremoniously chucked her into the passenger seat. She grunted with discomfort as she landed and wondered fleetingly if it was a smidgeon of what his opponents felt when he tackled them. Only they weren't turned on as all heck and really wanted to be in his pants. Or she hoped not.

Julie couldn't comprehend how he could drive so calmly when it took all her focus to settle her breathing and not to claw at his clothes. He had his big, warm, callused hand on her thigh as he drove and every light he would grab her and kiss her thoroughly, seeming to sense without looking when the colour would change. He would get her all worked up again but she wasn't complaining. The lust rush was incredible.

He finally pulled up at his hotel, chucked the valet the keys and pulled her into a fireman's lift. She immediately slapped him on the ass to let her go. She was eager to get to his room too but not at the expense of her dignity. It was quite one thing to have two kids laughing but a whole foyer? He let her down, grabbed her hand and walk-ran to the lift. There was no one in there, it had mirrors on all surfaces and he bent to kiss her again but a teenager slipped between the doors as they were closing. She reminded Julie a lot of herself at that age, long blonde hair nose in some weird emo-looking book with a bright red apple on it. Tim stood straight next to her trying to give off an innocent vibe. The smug smile on his face and the hand on her butt said otherwise. Julie struggled to contain her laughter. The lift pinged at his floor and as the door closed her swung her over his shoulder again, Julie could see the teen roll her eyes at them. He quickly ran down the corridor and swiped the key card in one swift swipe and then they were in. He had her up against the door before she could even exhale and his body was pressing against her so she was overwhelmed with his scent and warmth. His hands cradled her face gently and kissed her gently with contrasted with the pressure building between him and the door. It should be uncomfortable but she wanted to be as close to him as possible.

His lips were playing with hers, like a game. He would pounce and as soon as she was furiously kissing back he would back off. The corner of his mouth was raised even when he was kissing her, it made her toes curl. She moved her hands to his back and slide them down to cup his ass then back up again to slide under his signature cowboy shirt. He murmured into her mouth and she found she couldn't contain a smug smile of her own. He lifted her up against the door like she was a feather, bracing her body with his own as she wrapped her legs around him. It felt so right if a little hard on her back.

"Tim?" he groaned a response into her neck. Her head was thrown back against the door, breaths rushing nosily from her.

"Could we move into the bedroom? This is a tad uncomfortable." He burst into laughter, his hands still warm on her backside. The vibrations of his chuckle sweeping through her body from where his mouth rested on the pulse point of her neck.

"A tad?" he laughed as they moved kissing to the bedroom. She was walking backwards which would normally result in her on her ass but it was in good hands this time around. She giggled as he playfully bit at her bottom lip and she got swept into another loin warming kiss.

Suddenly she was on her back on a soft mattress and Tim was standing at the end of the bed looking down at her with an indescribable look upon his face. Then he sat down next to her facing the opposite end of the room with a loud sigh.

"Don't stop now." She ordered, gesturing him with her hands. He chuckled sadly and put his head into his hands, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he was doing.

"Maybe we should," those three words had her springing up from his bed like a jack-in-the-box. Was he kidding her? He must have the willpower of a saint. Her skin was alive, she was flushed all over and she wanted him like a flower needed the sun. She couldn't do the whole cold feet thing again, cold showers weren't her deal.

"Are you kidding me?" she sounded harsh and brittle. "We could have stopped hundreds of times in the past twenty minutes and you choose now?" She straightened her clothing, realising that one of her flip-flops has been lost at some point. They were sitting beside one another, not touching but both gasping for air.

"Julie..."

"No don't Tim, you can't keep going back and forth like a light switch. My body can't take that. You need to decide what you want and go for it. No more doubting yourself."

"Jules, it is not as easy as that."

"Sure it is." The frustrating was building to astronomical amounts. She could almost feel her womb shouting at him too.

"Jules, you're not taking any risks either. Look who you work for, for fuck's sake?" the anger surprised him more that it did her.

"Don't make this about me, you're the one who just left me high and dry here." The exasperation was clear. She stood up. "I am having a shower, you decide what you want. When I am done you'll take me back to my car and we're done. No more chances, no more stringing me along because of your issues with the tramp. I am not her so don't treat me this way." She stormed off wanting to wash away the frustration and his scent. She could smell him on her and she really didn't need the reminder of how humiliating this experience had been. She'd been turned down...again by a reformed man whore.

She disrobed and stepped into the warm and friendly spray of the awfully big, awfully glassy shower recess tying her hair up as she went. The water pummelled her body as she paused below the nozzle, she tipped her head back and allowed it to stream over neck, the thrumming of the water deafening her to anything but her thoughts. She wasn't going to cry, she had gotten her story but not the man. Not to say that he would be hers longer than the night or perhaps his stay in Texas but at least she would have a chance. He intrigued her, she found herself wanting to know more and more about him for altruistic reasons not for her career. Tears were not going to spill, she'd get out of the shower and march out there with all the dignity she could muster. No Taylor would allow themselves to be rejected three times, she had more gall than that and she was no common hussy. She quickly got her jeans and tank back on and went back to face the music. She opened the door and walked determinedly to the exit from the room. She refused to look back, striding forward, focussing solely on the freedom that would be hers in mere seconds.

A hand gently touched her shoulder and spun her around. She found herself looking straight into his eyes. His beautiful, magnetic eyes and she breathed a sigh. She wasn't leaving. There was no escape from this. His eyes were chaotic trying to assess her state of mind, she was determined not to help him out.

"Stay," and with that one word she was his. The firm set of her mouth melted away and he pulled her into his arms. There was no other place she wanted to be.

**Author's Note** – Another wait and I apologise. More podcasting and I finished my last chapter of Waking Up with Scarlett Letters finally.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Quiet Side of the Room – Chapter 12**

Julie lay in bed perusing her memory for the events of the day. She'd scored her interview, she'd been rejected ... again and now she was laying on a pile of Riggins. They were in the middle of the bed, a sheet haphazardly thrown over them. He was asleep and snoring in a quiet way that could only be called adorable. Her cheek was solidly planted on his chest, the hardest pillow she had ever fallen asleep upon. Half her body was securely tucked into the warm strength that was his body. Her leg was bent casually over his, her hand spread over his torso. They were an illustration of a couple that had experienced some significant bouts of afternoon delight.

It had been phenomenal. He'd said _stay_ and then his lips had been upon hers. The rest happened all too quickly but that was to be expected from their long bout of foreplay. After that they had wallowed in one another's presence for hours until the sunset and sleep had finally overcome both of them. She was awake now, afraid to move. She was fearful that he might baulk again so she had kept her eyes closed the stave off his inevitable realisation that he should have listened to his instincts.. Although how a Riggins could possibly turn down sex she would never know but in the end he hadn't. In fact he had really taken advantage of the opportunity and now her body was a tad sore from the use of muscles that had been stagnant for too long.

A light sensation brushed across her nose. She wrinkled it but the tickling didn't stop. She cracked one eye opened to see Tim brushing her nose with a strand of her own hair.

"Hey sleepyhead," he said with an affectionate smile on his face.

"Hey you," she said quietly back.

"Come here," he said in a whispered and she shimmied up to receive his kiss. It was a sweet, short kiss that melted some of her fears away. He wrapped her up in his arms so she was basically atop of him and placed a long kiss on her forehead while gently swinging her a little in the hug. She felt so safe that she was a little taken aback. This man made her feel at rest when she was with him, hopeful even.

He moved her again so she was tucked beneath his arm, her chin resting on his pectoral area and her arm stretching across his wide chest to hold him to her. They lay there for minutes, silently enjoying each other's presence without the need to speak. She sighed deeply, drawing in a breath of his distinctive scent and she knew, no matter what occurred, that she would never forget this day or the smell of him.

"So that was ...nice" she didn't want to push it, keep it generally vague.

"Nice huh? That's not how I would describe it," he said with a snort into her hair.

"Well I don't have a huge scope to compare it to, so yeah nice," she looked at him to see his face and the tip of her nose brushed his skin as her raised her face. She sensed, rather than felt, his shiver of awareness.

"I can accept that like a man who hasn't had his performance diminished," he joked laughing softly. His fingers began trailing the soft skin of her inner wrist, swirling, fleeting touches that made her pulse race.

"Well you'd already done your job on my confidence so consider us equal now," she chuckled softly although the truth was there in her words. The movement on her wrist stopped.

"I don't know what I can say to make you feel better about that but I can explain my actions if you want," he stated softly trying to gauge her reaction.

"Tim, you flirted with me, you kissed me and then when it gets as heated as it can get you back off. Number one – how is that possible?" he chuckled at that. "Number two - what's going on? You're doing my head in." She sat up clutching the sheet to her chest and moved back creating an emotional and physical distance between them. She suspected she was in love with him but she didn't need a guy that would treat her this way.

He sat up, the white sheet pooling at his belly showing off a bronzed and muscle bound stomach. She looked away, she couldn't be swayed by lust again. He looked at her on the other side of the bed in dismay.

"I keep thinking about what it means?" he said, his hands out before him trying to get her to understand and looking pretty hopeless.

"I don't know what you mean by that."

He sighed, she knew talking wasn't particularly his thing but she was going to get her answer. "I was trying to avoid the inevitable. That in sleeping with you, I knew ..." he trailed off looking embarrassed and shy. Tim Riggins shy? She moved in close to him again, touching his arm reassuringly. She was going to get her answer but she wasn't going to be an outright bitch.

"...I have heard about you ever since I was eighteen. When I lived with your family I was surrounded with photos and stories. When you were here though I left well enough alone but my curiosity was always killing 

me. You were this strong but breakable sixteen year old who all the boys lusted over and all the girls were jealous of." Her face must have shown her shock, he was talking about the same Julie Taylor who had been superhumanly shy? He laughed at her shock.

"It...It was the suit," she said trying to explain the mystical powers of the red lifeguard swimsuit.

"No, though you looked hot in it. It was all about you. The pool was the only chance guys could get anywhere near you," he smiled. She shook her head, he was being nice. "I stayed away from the pool when I knew you were on duty," His face was bashful.

"Why?" this was a conversation full of surprises.

"You were my hero's daughter and I knew, deep in my gut, that being near you would be a mistake." Her brow creased in confusion. "You know what I was like back then, man whore extraordinaire. I wanted you bad and you were the Coach's daughter, I avoided a potentially heinous situation."

"Yeah right, there was no way I would have gone anywhere near you," she laughed in complete mirth.

"Jules." There was a knowing smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. She sighed, he was right, she so would have slept with him ... eventually. They were both well aware that his reputation was deserved.

"It was hard, you know, keeping out of the way of Julie. It took some serious manoeuvring on my part but I succeeded. Then college happened, then NFL and life went on. Except I met this girl with long blonde hair and a smile reminiscent of someone else's and I kinda fell for her and then she bit me on the ass care of the Denver Post."

Julie wasn't looking at him anymore, she was too distracted by the cog clicking away in her brain. Tim Riggins had lusted after her? It didn't work, she looked at him for clarification. She stretched her hand out and he took it gratefully, his thumb smoothing her skin.

"I had convinced myself that I was incapable of creating a family of my own. That I would screw it up, that it was beyond me. Hanging out these last few days made me realise that I wanted to have that with you. That all that curiosity about you was for a reason." The silence stretched out spanning time and space. Julie didn't know how to react. She doubted her brain had even processed the words. "So it freaked me out, everything I believed so strongly was at odds with everything I was feeling so strongly."

"Oh," for a journalist she was strangely without words. "So today?"

"Today was going to be the end. I knew from the night before that I wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer you were too darn tempting. I was going to give you your interview and leave. It was going to be the end."

"But?"

"In the park you were saying all those great things about how I was different, how I had already proved I was different from the Riggins mould and I wanted to believe you so badly. Then one thing turned into another and we were back here. You were lying on this bed, your hair spread out around you and I realised I couldn't do it, I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't believe you."

Julie moved further into him, wanted to sooth the raw feelings. She drew herself up next to him and leaned her head upon his shoulder allowing him to continue.

"You got fed up. I still don't know how I resisted in that moment," he shook his head unbelievably. "You were in the bathroom and I knew I had to let you go, let you carry out what you had threatened."

"You were sure I was going to do that?" she broke the silence.

He laughed. "Of course you were, you are a freaking Taylor and I had done a major job on your pride." He looked at her like she didn't know herself as well as he did. And then in that moment of you walking to the door I realised you were right. I was already doing the things I thought I was incapable of. I had willingly sought a job where I could be more of a "family" person. And most of all I realised that I wanted you above all else."

"Want?" she questioned the term. She was melting on the inside but _want_ wasn't enough. His fear had made him flip flop with his actions but she needed something more concrete. The admission was amazing and truthfully a little awing.

"Need," he replied looking down at her. There hands were entwined, their shoulders touching, their lips centimetres apart.

"How do I know this is you talking and not the magical chilli?"

**Author's Note** – Okay I am speeding up a little. Hope you enjoy the new chapter as I am getting back into the swing. I apologise for leaving you hanging in a horrible part of the story.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"How do I know this is you talking and not the magical chilli?" She was trying to diffuse. Sure he'd made a huge declaration of 'needing her' but what did that mean? He'd been literally dipping his toe in and out of the Julie pool for days, flip-flopping between his need for her and his fears. How did she know he wouldn't change his mind again?

"It's me." Great, now he had decided to return to his non-verbal self. He had probably exhausted his word supply for the decade. He had spilled the beans on so much and yet he really hadn't confirmed anything.

She snuggled into his chest again, breathing in his scent and trying to keep her continuing fears at bay. Questions kept popping into her head. Tim was moving here, would she be his girlfriend? Would they last? She might end up Coach Riggins' wife, ugh. Would she have to attend all the games? She pulled her thoughts up fast, she was definitely jumping the gun. Want and need. Both had been mentioned but nothing about love. The emotion that was swelling in her chest it was definitey the l-word. She hadn't felt it for anyone in this way before but she was pretty sure she knew what it was.

"So I am going back to Denver for awhile," she purposefully kept herself still, attempting not to show any kind of reaction though her brain was racing wildly. He was doing the old 'pash and dash' except they had done a lot more than kiss. Her heart sank, wanting her and having crushed over her in high school obviously didn't mean diddly squat.

"Oh," she had to voice something but the lump in her throat wasn't permitting much more than that.

"That's it...oh?" he asked. She couldn't see his face and his voice wasn't expressing all that much. She circled her fingertip around the circumference of his belly button lost in thought. "Is this your dead-on impression of me?" he asked and she noticed a different tone to his voice that she couldn't place.

"No um does that mean you are coming back?" she could hear the indecision in her voice, the nervousness, the fear. She hated her voice in that instant.

"Yeah. I'm going to accept that coaching job. I need to go to Denver and work some stuff out," she frowned into his chest. Dissolving a contract was going to be hell, let alone the actual moving.

"Wow that's going to be rough,"

"It'll be worth it," he stated moving his hand up to bring her closer again into his side. How was she supposed to interpret that? Worth it? Because of her, the job or both?

She kissed his chest. "Okay I really have to go," she said as she rose from the bed moving away from him and his delectable warmth. He looked confused.

"What's happening here?" he asked confused as she was hurriedly shoving her clothes on with her back to him.

"What do you mean?" she asked nonchalantly. She needed to get out of there before she became one of those crying, needy girls that she detested so much.

She felt his hands on her upper arms and then the whoosh as he spun her around so she was facing him. She looked up the many inches that separated them and saw a knowing look in his eyes.

"You know you can't hide flight from a fleer," the corner of his mouth was tipping like he was trying to contain his laughter. "What's going on?" with each word he inched her forward so they were separated by her clothes. She realised quickly he was in the buff which was disconcerting and a little thrilling.

"You are going and I still don't know what this means? You talked about it earlier that you were worried about what it "meant" but what does this mean?" she was using her hands to gets some space and clarity. She hated it when people used quotation fingers but there she was doing it.

"You and me..." he said, seemingly struggling for words. "I thought I was clear about this," he redirected.

"You weren't," quickly replied.

"I'll be gone for awhile tying up all the loose strings..." she nodded understandingly. "And when I come back I want us to be together." Her heart sang, it literally quickened its beats so it sounded like a techno track. He smiled, proud of himself.

"Define together," the smile moved, the corners lowered and a sigh releasing from his lungs.

"Like you would be my ... girlfriend," it squeezed out of him, distaste for the 'g' word obvious.

"Girlfriend?" She was being mean but she wanted to see his face when he tried to say the word again, it was too funny for words.

"Yeah ... girlfriend." She smiled and placed a swift kiss on his lips as he breathed a sigh of relief that the torment was over. She snuggled into his bare chest unable to contain her giggles. He hugged her to him and placed his chin atop her head.

"So you are going to go? The Broncos aren't going to be all that happy," that was a vast understatement.

"They already know. I told them before the Superbowl."

"But you didn't know about the job before then, did you?" she asked.

"I wanted out, job or not," it really spoke to her. That he was already over the whole NFL deal and that the Superbowl win and accolades weren't enough to keep him tied to the support. He had strong ideals and she loved that about him.

"I am proud of you," she told him, meaning it with every cell.

"That's what your dad said," he chuckled. "Except I wasn't naked before him," Julie couldn't help but snort at the image that filled her mind. Her head was tucked into the crook of his neck and she wanted to stay there forever. The vibration of his every word was soothing.

"So you need to accept that position, pack up and move over here pronto."

"Yes sir."

"How long will you be gone?"

"A couple of weeks."

"When?"

"Today." His face was a mask of frustration. "That's why I agreed to do the interview yesterday, I thought I was out of here. Last meeting and all." Her stomach dropped at the thought that had things not have gone as they did, he would be gone from her life. "I think I might have a buyer for my house. I need to oversee the move so I can get back quicker. I have a girl I have to see."

He smiled down at her and she beamed back at him. She didn't want him out of her sight but if it meant he was back sooner than it was something she could deal with.

"Where are you going to live?"

"I 'll work something out."

"Ohhh you are being all mysterious now,"

"You'll see." He quickly pulled off her tank and shuffled her towards the bed.

oOoOo

A few hours and a ride to the airport later she was trying to get him onto his plane.

"Tim, you gotta get on that flight. You've been announced over the loudspeaker," as Julie said that his name was announced again.

He kissed her soundly, tugged her hair and turned to board the plane. She should be a mess but she knew he was coming back to her. He spun around, walking backwards-

"Get that interview out there tomorrow so you get the scoop," he grinned. He'd given her the biggest story in sports in a year. His grin was infectious and he turned back around again. A thought occurred to her, she wanted to ask but it really wasn't the place. Oh who cares!

"You didn't finish your sentence?" she called out at him. He spun around, twenty feet separating them.

"And what sentence would that be?"

"Yesterday. You said if you ...you know," she wasn't talking about her sex life with all of those people surrounding them but she suspected her code was easy to break "... with me that you knew... Knew what?"

He gave a look of apology to the flight attendant that was waiting for him to board and quickly jogged back. He kissed her again, leaned forward and whispered into her ear –

"That the falling was done."

**Author's Note** – Sorry, sorry, sorry for the delay.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"That the falling was done."

When he had said that to her all those weeks ago, Julie had become mushy. Her legs were one step away from becoming noodles. Later, when she had been thinking about it she wondered if she had interpreted those few words the way that she wanted, rather than what he actually meant. He wasn't a talker, well he had been in that hotel room, but now he was almost silent. He'd call every now and then, a few words here and there but it was all a little so-so.

The one saving factor was the interview. She had posed it to her boss but it hadn't been what her editor was looking for. Sure they were a small paper but apparently they were stupid too. Who would turn down this story, an exclusive? On the spot she had tendered her resignation, not wanting to work for a paper more interested in local playgrounds being constructed and the winners of the local garden show. She was freelance, but more importantly she was free. She had rung a few contacts she had, making them vaguely aware of the story she had, she didn't want to be scooped. Within an hour she had been approached by one of the big papers in LA and her story had been sold. It was going to be on the cover of the sports page. This is what she wanted. Or she thought it was. Telling the big sports stories, having her by-line printed in the major papers. When she thought about it a bit more, she realised it was all a little hollow without him.

She was now officially needy. She loathed herself. And him for making her this way. The phone calls were few and far between with excuses of being busy, a quick thanks and congratulations on the article and general silence. Her confidence was diminishing. Three weeks had past and she was almost sure she'd been a diversion from real life for him. A groupie. Part of her though buckled against that thought. That he had felt for her, that he had meant everything he said and that he was actually busy getting everything ready for his move. Either way he was going to be in her life, as a partner or as the guest to family holidays. One sounded so much better than the other. Glaring at him for an entire Thanksgiving meal didn't sound like truck loads of fun.

She had to have faith that he wasn't cooling his jets. Her heart was too invested now and the hurt was going to be insurmountable should he cut and run. Some high school lust and a day in a hotel room didn't equate true love. She thought there may have been a chance but it was more likely a figment of her imagination.

OoOoO

"Julie, are you going to sit there or night or actually contribute to the conversation?" Julie's head abruptly swung up as she realised her mother was speaking to her.

"Sorry, things on my mind."

"Well my girl has a lot of thinking to do, being a famous sport's writer and all," her father boasted as he settled into his chair, arms swinging back and a proud smirk on his face.

"Dad, it was one article."

"That's all it takes, sweet pea." She wasn't in the mood for parental pride. Not when the harsh realities of life was hitting her hard in the heart.

"So how's Tim doing with the move?" Tami asked Eric. Julie tried to remain calm as her heart went from steady to palpitations in a second.

"Not bad, I've spoken to him a few times and he's nearly there." Her heart dropped, she'd spoken to him twice and gotten no information out of him whatsoever. The fact that her father had raised her ire.

"How's he feeling about the new job?" Tami continued to pepper the Coach with questions, unable to staunch her need to busybody.

"Excited. Keen. Been calling me a lot to go over the particulars of his program. He's got some great ideas and enthusiasm plus some God –given talent, that boy's going to do well."

Julie gritted her teeth. He'd been talking often and at length with her dad and yet she got two, three minute conversations where she carried the bulk of the talking. Her heart fell, he really wasn't into this. Her. Them. Whatever.

"What's the matter Jules? You're looking a little pale sweetie." Her mother was looing at her with that keen eye of hers and Julie couldn't help but feel like she was giving everything away with her eyes.

"I am okay."

"You're sure?" Tami looked disbelievingly at her. "Eric, you start cleaning up. Your daughter and I have to talk.' With that she rose from the table and basically dragged her eldest onto the porch where she plonked down on the top step.

"So what's up?" that's all her mother said as she dropped her chin to the arms that crossed atop her bended knees. Her face turned towards her daughter, searching her face for answers.

"Nothing is wrong Mom,"

"Well there shouldn't be but there is. You've written probably the biggest sports story of the year, you finally left that dinky paper and you are miserable. What is wrong?"

Julie sighed audibly. Her mom was going to drill her til she spilled. Better to vent now.

"I think I fell in love..." she let the world trickle out of her mouth. It felt wrong to say the words in such a depressing manner, they should be gleeful expressed from an exuberant individual.

"And?"

"I think I was just a pleasant interlude. Things were said but I think I was getting the party line, what I wanted to hear rather than what was the truth." Her mother looked at her with a mixture disapproval and sympathy.

"What happened?"

"I met him and there was immediate sparks. We didn't mean for it to happen, we kind of tried to avoid each other but the zaps were too strong. I spent an awesome day with him. He convinced me we would have a shot and now I am not so sure. I think I have been dropped Mom." She wasn't going to name him, no matter what happened she couldn't besmirch him in her parent's eyes. They were his only family. No matter the pain, she couldn't do that.

"What happened the last time you saw him?" her mother inched up beside her and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"He said something like 'the falling was done' and then he was gone. We've talked twice but it's been awkward and tense and just horrible." Julie struggled to keep the tears in. "He said he wanted to be my boyfriend and then everything stopped. Like, he froze in his tracks. I knew he was wary of a relationship but he seemed into me," she looked at her mom, tears clouding her eyes and hope shrivelling inside her heart.

"I am sure Tim will come around," she said sympathetically.

"I don't think he will."

"He really is busy, Hun,"

"What? I didn't say Tim." What the hell? Her mom knew? "How do ...?"

"There were sparks at over the chilli. He gave you an interview despite his distrust of journalists. He flirted. You've kept this whole thing close to your chest, you kept everything brief, no details, and no names, usually I hear everything. It's Tim." Tami's hair swayed as she smiled knowingly at her daughter. Julie wiped her nose of her sleeve as her mother watched disapprovingly.

"Well if you know so much, tell me what to do?" she beginning to whine and revert to her fourteen year old self. It didn't feel good.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? That's all you've got for me?"

"Tim wouldn't have," her mother coughed, "...been with you if he didn't have good intentions. Your father would kill him. He knew what he was doing. He meant what he said. Give him some time, let him explain, don't push."

"You wouldn't be saying anything like this if it wasn't Tim,"

"Probably not. But don't make assumptions until you know what is going on."

"But he doesn't talk to me. I get mumbling and the occasional word."

"Back off, wait. Let him come to you. He will. Otherwise I'll have to say something to your father and then Tim will arrive on your doorstep in a headlock." Julie gasped at the horrid image of that eventuating.

"Don't tell Dad," she asked.

"I promise. But you need to promise me that you'll stop thinking too much into it and let him talk." Tami inched in closer to her daughter again, hugging Julie tightly against her side. "Give it time. Breathe."

Julie closed her eyes and took a breath. And waited.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Julie stayed glued to the top step of her parent's home, eyes tightly shut, breathing and waiting, centring herself and enjoying the comfort of her mother's warmth surrounding her. Could she contain herself enough to wait? Without driving herself crazy with wild images or deluded thoughts. Her mom let go, she could hear her sitting up and getting to her feet, a sweeping hand caressed her forehead but still Julie kept her eyes closed. It was almost as if the longer she kept still, the less she might have to wait for him. Crummy logic she knew, but nothing about their relationship so far had made sense.

Breathing in the fresh cool air of the night, she wrapped her arms around her middle and imagined what it would be like to be a million miles away. Tim would return and she would be nowhere to be found. He'd have to deal with the knowledge that he drove her away with his insensitive, oafish behaviour. It sounded nice but she would eventually have to come back and deal with the situation herself. She sighed. There was no running away here, well not for her anyway.

She heard the trees move with the night breeze, the neighbour's cat treading carefully over the roof of her parent's home and some scuffing. She tried to ignore it all. Forget the world.

Eyes still closed she felt something brushed against her temple. Soft and fleeting. She swatted at it, she hated moths with a fiery passion that could only now be reserved for one Tim Riggins. Something, or someone, grabbed her hand mid-swat. She opened her eyes quickly, shaking her head trying to make the blurriness dissolve. She was looking straight in the eyes of the guy she had begun to despise. He was on the bottom step, crouching with his knees jutted forward and her little hand dwarfed by his own.

His face was difficult to read but there was a small smile on his face. Was he here for her or her family? Julie couldn't withhold her need to get her hand free, touching him, being in close proximity wasn't in her best interests. She needed to think. She snatched it free. Folding her hands in her lap she looked straight at him. They were looking at each other eye for eye and she felt her heart jump, he was back.

"Where have you been?" she asked hoping to sound casually indifferent.

"What? No kiss hello?" he joked. Her immediate frown made an instantaneous impact on him, his face serious. She couldn't say anything, was this a joke for him? He seemed to sense this was not going well, he rose to his heels and manoeuvred his body to sit in the place where her mother had just been. There was a dividing space between them much to her relief. She continued to look straight ahead but sensed he was examining her.

"What's going on Jules?" If he was looking for some sort of reaction he got one. Her hair flew around her and she turned to gape at his question with incredulity. Was he serious?

"Are you serious?" she asked him, her exasperation clearly obvious in her tone and on her face.

"I came back. I thought you might be here." He said it quietly and calmly. As if that were enough. As if that was all she needed to hear. Two weeks ago it would have been. But then again he was her for her, not her family.

"That's not good enough. Two calls weren't enough. You coming back isn't good enough." So much for listening. Her mother's advice flew away as her anger grew. She was almost choking on it.

Julie expected him to back up, recoil from her but he didn't. He leaned in closer and just looked at her face.

"You are mad at me." Again he was doing the calm thing and it intensified her anger all the more.

"Yeah you might say that." She sounded like a petulant teen who hadn't gotten her way.

"I am not a huge talker Jules. Phone calls are worse." What a load of crap? He'd been talking his darned jaw off in that hotel room.

"You spoke to my dad... a lot." He sighed, pushing his hair away from his forehead and looking at her with more understanding. In that moment she realised he hasn't been anticipating this kind of reunion.

"Yeah but that was about football and coaching. Talking to you is different."

"Fine." She was now using all the tools in her belt, passive-aggressiveness sure wasn't pretty. At least she hadn't lowered herself to the silent treatment yet.

"Fine?" He scoffed. "Clearly it's not."

"Two calls where I talked the entire time."

"Of course you did. I missed you, I just wanted to hear as much of your voice as I could."

"Fine." She was beginning to crack. Why did he have to say things like that? She straightened her back - it wasn't a good enough reason.

"I just didn't know what to say. We had an incredible time together. Once I was in Denver all I wanted to do was get back here as fast as possible. It was like, focus on the move then get back to Jules."

She could feel her body softening. Maybe she had been acting a little half-cocked about the delay.

"I needed something too Tim. I needed to know that I wasn't some random fling."

He looked shocked. "But I told you, it's you and me. You are not a fling."

"I felt like one." Her anger dissipated but the hurt was there for him to see. It was in her eyes, in the downturn of her mouth and even in the lines of her forehead. The realisation of how his actions had impacted her began to sink in. She could see it on his face. She felt better, none of this was knowingly done. He was just being boy dense.

"But I left things solid. I said that thing to you at the airport. You knew what I meant right?" He was beginning to look panicked.

"That falling thing?" He nodded, still looking completely befuddled by how wrong things had gone in three weeks. "I didn't know what you meant. I was afraid to guess."

He scooted up next to her, took her face in his hands. He took a deep breath. "When I said the falling was done I meant-" he gulped "...I was done falling in love with you." Julie's forehead creased, she hasn't particularly thought of that interpretation.

"I love you. The falling was done. I realised I loved you." He didn't make a move despite his fingers stroking her jaw and his face only inches from her own. His eyes were examining her closely for her reaction. The problem was, she wasn't reacting. She was frozen. She couldn't process. She required a reboot.

His fingers moved up fanning across her cheeks and she shook off her daze.

"You ... love me?" He loved her? This was not what she expected. She drew back and punched him hard in the arm.

"You dumb ass. You made me sit, waiting for you for three weeks thinking I was some floozy that you murmured lies to and then ditched. You love me? I felt like nothing. I thought you didn't care. Use your words properly Tim!"

From his spot on the step he looked as though he was trying to hide his amusement.

"I love you, Jules. I've been a dumb ass but this dumb ass loves ya." He reached up for her, knowing that her bluster was a facade. She was abruptly plonked in his lap, his arms securely wrapped around her. Her butt was firmly placed on his knees, her torso facing his own. He bent in to kiss her and she quickly raised her hand to cover his mouth.

"No." She said determinedly as she squirmed in closer to his body. She was a truckload of contradictions.

"No? You don't love me?" He was looking totally confused and hurt.

"Of course I love you, you oaf. But never, ever" she punched him again to stress her point, "...ever leave me hanging like that again. You call me every day. Every day, you hear?"

"You love me?" he asked a big smile breaking across his face, she could feel it growing under her palm. She took her hands away and leaned in for a kiss. It was perfect. Sweet, tender and long awaited. She drew again and spoke into his lips.

"I love you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him some more. She had missed him fiercely. She dropped her head to his shoulder, breathing him in.

"Next time you go away you need to talk to me, not my dad."

"Oh I will."

"How can I be sure? I don't want to feel like that again. Unimportant. Forgotten. Used. I really don't want to be left like that again." She was getting 

pretty emotional but she wasn't letting him get off the hook because he declared his love.

"You won't. I want to know that you'll be there when I come back." He understood. She had no tolerance for that kind of behaviour and he was right. She wouldn't permit a repeat, she might walk away.

"But I'm not going anywhere. I am the new coach of the Lake Dallas Falcons and I'm going to raise my family here." How could he sound so boastful about something that didn't even exist?

"You are, are you? That's a mighty big assumption. What family would that be?"

"The one I am going to have with you." He was cocksure now.

"Really?"

"Yeah. With my wife." Her stomach dropped what the hell? Her arms were still wrapped around him. "Could you get that thing out of my back left pocket?" He joked. She lowered one of her arms, leaning closer into his body, her chin resting on his shoulder and felt an item there. She fished her fingers into the pocket and jimmied the shape out. She drew her arms back and looked at the item she had grabbed. She laughed when she saw it. It was a ring. So like Tim to pass on the bended knee and opened jewellery box tradtion and have her grope him while fishing a ring from his pants instead.

"Marry me?" His gaze was intense but there was love in his eyes. She hadn't doubted the words when they came from his mouth or when they were in his eyes. He meant it. She looked down at the ring; it was a six-pronged ring with a band of channel-set round-brilliant diamonds. It was beautiful.

She looked at him silently. She was afraid to speak and ruin the perfection of the moment. He interpreted it a completely different way.

"Hey Jules I know it's quick but I love you, you love me. I knew when you stood there splattered with chilli, I knew. Maybe I knew when you were perched up on that lifeguard chair, I knew. Marry me? Let me be your husband."

He never did anything the traditional way. There was no flowery speech. No bended knee. No would you be my wife. He wanted to be her husband? Sure it was quick but she knew too. He was the one for her.

She looked up at him, a twinkle in her eye. She held her left hand and slipped the ring on her ring finger right in front of his face. She nodded, got an answering smile in return and then kissed the stuffing out of him. At one point they came to the surface, their foreheads touching, her butt firmly place in his lap. She groaned.

"What?"

"Does that mean I will be Mrs Coach?" She groaned again in good humour and Tim chortled heartily. She silenced his laughter with her lips, her arms around him, her heart pounding against his chest where his own was pounding in agreement. She would be the happiest Mrs Coach Riggins ever.

She heard the front door open but she was too happy to recognise the interrupter. She did hear her dad boom-

"Yep Tami, that chilli sure does work good."

**Author's Note** – Sorry for the huge hiatus but life does give you massive mental roadblocks sometimes. Thanks for all those who spurred me on. Thanks for the reviews, I adore them and they gave me the motivation to finish this last one. I hope the ending wasn't too schmaltzy for you. Cheers and love to you all. WhoJ.


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